Getting Her Ya Yas
by Adrienne
Summary: First Person Shooter missing scene fic, strong language and quasi-smut.


Title: Getting Her Ya Ya's   
Author: Adrienne [davephile@yahoo.com][1] >   
Date: February 28, 2000   
Rating: Strong R   
Spoilers: First Person Shooter   
Classification: TR   
Keywords: TR, First Person Shooter, Mulder POV   
Archive: Anywhere, in its entirety   
Summary: What happened in that little room during that little time that they had alone.   
Disclaimer: Agents Mulder and Scully are not mine, but at least I let them mess around, you know?   
Author's Notes: This just came to me about as soon as I watched that episode. Why else would Scully's hair be all messed up?... NO!!! Obviously it has to do with sex. Thanks to Kris for the title!!!!   
[http://petpede.tripod.com][2]

* * *

"Where the imagination ends, our true natures lie, waiting to be confronted on our own terms."   
- Mulder, First Person Shooter   


"Keep gunnin' it, Scully! I've almost got it..."

I watch as the door to the waiting room creaks up, inch by inch, the blade of my sword bending under its weight and pressure. I have to get this motherfucker up... I really don't feel like getting my ass toasted today, especially in front of the lone gunboys. That, and I'm so strung right now that if I get in this little metal room alone with her it's gonna take all my effort not to attack her and fuck her into subvirtual reality.

When Scully came in, clutching that gun twice her size to kick that cyber bitch's ass, I couldn't help but get hot. I mean, I never dreamed I'd see Scully in metal and leather, all black and panting, and the look on her face was just about enough ot make me forget where the hell I was, which was evident when I almost got my lame ass liquified before I hit the ground.

"Get that fucking door open, Mulder!"

I snap back to reality when she screams at me over the gunfire. Oh, sweet profanity. Could this get any better? Maybe--if we weren't in the middle of a virtual ass kicking by an armored tank with Las Vegas stripper accessory.

I yank up hard and the door gives with a surprisingly easy upward slide, almost causing the sword to go flying over my head and into god knows what. "Scully!" I yell, clamoring over to grab her arm. She lets a few more bullets fly before dropping the gun to turn and high tail it into the room with me. I slam my hand on all the butons, causing the door to close with a hard slam as it falls.

As if on cue, the gunfire outside the door stops. Scully, my wide-eyed adrenaline junkie, paces back and forth across the little room like a lioness in a cage, her breathing ragged.

"Yeah!" she finally yells, jumping at the deafening echo of her voice the room, though it doesn't seem to stop her from shoving me hard with her hands, almost careening me backward. I grab her arms, and before I know it she's pushing me against the wall and kissing me so fucking hard I can't breathe.

Unfuckingbelievable... I'm pinned and I don't know what to think. But then I think, "Don't think, do." Do. Do, you pansyass...

I pull her headgear off and throw it across the room, the metal and plastic of our vests butting against each other with an eerie metal scraping sound as we fight to get our bodies closer. I grab the back of her thighs and pick her up, turning and slamming her against the wall--thank god for these fucking vests of steel anyway--and I hold her there as I force my tongue into her mouth. She willingly accepts it and sucks it in further. And holy shit, this leather codpiece is gonna kill me...

She grabs the back of my hair and latches on, tugging but not letting go. Her lips and tongue and teeth are frenzied against mine. I thrust against her again, making her moan as the aforementioned stupid leather and metal jockstrap I'm wearing grinds between her legs.

I want under her vest so badly, I want to rip it off her, but I know Frohike and the rest of the fucking numbnut geeks will be in here soon... they always do that, fuck up things like this.

I'm brought back to the reality of things as her hot, wet mouth moves down my neck and bites at me, a little harder than playful, and I give her an appreciative thrust that makes her toss her head back on her shoulders, moaning and writhing her hips against me. Her heels dig into the back of my thighs and it's getting a little painful so I move away from the wall and she falls down in front of me, opening her eyes and giving me that crazy "I'm gonna kick your ass" look again.

I'm guessing it also substitutes for her "I'm gonna kiss your ass" look.

Scully pushes me hard and I feel myself falling, tripping over my own fucking feet until I land on my back on the floor. Again, vest to the rescue--no spinal crack for me today. I sit up and she puts a foot on either side of my hips, straddling me between her legs as she sits on my lap and shoves my upper body back down against the floor. My head bounces off of the ground but I don't even feel it; all I can feel is my erection straining painfully against the codpiece but I don't dare tell her to stop what she's doing, because it's too good to bother with the technical bullshit and I'm not about ready to admit that I'm in pain--there's been enough humiliation for today.

She puts a hand on each of my shoulders and kisses me hard again, her hips grinding against mine rhythmically, up and down, and I respond with my own rhythm, thrusting up and listening with glee as she whimpers. My hands work under her vest, through the sides of it, just barely enough to work up her shirt and touch the bare skin of her sides. Toooooo sweet... too good...

Way too good. And all good things have to end, I realize with frustration as I hear a loud bang on the door of the elevator. "Fuck," Scully whispers, rolling off of me and onto her back just as the door opens, exposing us to the three gunboys and the geek girl who got us here in the first place. I'll have to send her a fucking thank you note.

They're all smiling as we both get up; her hair's tousled and she has this dazed look in her eyes. They'll think it's from the shooting, but I guess I know better.

And then I realize I forgot to take my sunglasses off.

end.   


   [1]: mailto:davephile@yahoo.com
   [2]: http://petpede.tripod.com



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